Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Deathstork #9


If this were me, they'd have to stick my cock in one of those arm shackles too. Mostly because I'd have requested it.

I don't know how much longer I can be funny because I'm just getting angrier and angrier at what the Republicans are doing. They were anti-Trump when they feared he might bring some liberal ideas into the White House because he's one of those Hollywood types (plus he expressed quite a few liberal ideas previous to running as a Republican) but now that he's carrying out their hateful and selfish agenda, they're happier than pigs in shit. They are pigs in shit. Hell, they are shit. I don't want to demean pigs. Here's what I just posted as a Facebook status because I'm ready to burn down all of my relationships with people who think Mitch McConnell basically telling a peer who is a woman to shut up (and then not doing the same to my Senator from Oregon, Jeff Merkley, because why? Oh, wait. The why is the easy part, the fucking coward. I wonder how many times Little Mitch got his nose bloodied at school by another boy for being a dick to a girl? Too bad some girls didn't bloody it to (additional note: oh look. More white men were allowed to read the letter on the Senate floor. Go fucking figure):

If you agree with what Trump and the Republican toadies are doing, you are:

A. Ignorant.
B. Sexist.
C. Racist.
D. A Coward.
E. All of the above.
F. Fuck you.

Liberals are constantly accused of playing politics when it's quite the opposite and there's an easy way to spot why that's true: use your fucking brain. I'm not a liberal because I wanted to choose a side and then win the game. I'm a liberal because I don't view the world through my own selfish desires. I don't look at a government safety net program and think, "How many fuckers are abusing this?" I think, "Who fucking cares how few people are abusing it because it actually fucking helps people in need, you piece of shit motherfucker." I understand how the tax code works and while it gets complicated in the details, the overall system couldn't be simpler and yet nobody seems to fucking understand how people are taxed across their range of income. This leads to a rallying cry that the tax code is too complex and needs to be changed to some kind of disastrous straight percentage across all incomes that would lead to the biggest deficits this country has ever seen. I don't fear for my life so much that I think freedoms should be exchanged for illusory security, especially when that security is aimed at keeping cowardly white people feeling safe from brown people. And I don't even fear for my life so much that I think all guns should be taken away but holy Christ's jizz in alphabet soup something can be fucking done to tighten up regulations on who can get their hands on them and what kind should be in mass circulation. If you approve of a ban of immigrants from seven countries where no terrorist attacks on American soil have originated in the last thirty years and also approve of lifting restrictions on people with mental illnesses buying guns, you're the political one. You're the scared racist who thinks you need a gun to protect yourself from the brown people. You are almost certainly one or all of the above in my previous survey.

I have been called paranoid because of my criticisms of Trump and the Republican majority. It's actually vigilance. Paranoia was when people saw a black man governing the country and expressed all kinds of "What-if" scenarios about what he was going to do to the country without any evidence. Vigilance is when you see the fuckers in Congress doing everything your government shouldn't do and pointing out how it's fucked up. If you're not, at the very fucking least, concerned with their war against transparency, you've proven to everybody around you that you really don't fucking care about America. Hell, if you don't care about that, I don't fucking know what you give a shit about. I guess you just care about living in a world where nobody points out that you're an asshole.

The Review!
Last issue, Superman captured Deathstork and was all, "You'll rot in Coast Guard prison, you miscreant!" This issue, Deathstork probably escapes from Coast Guard prison.

This issue begins like this:


All of Trump's cabinet picks could have had similar names and nobody would have batted an eye, apparently.

Dr. Villain is waiting to speak with Jericho for probably innocent reasons. But currently, Jericho is out sitting on a bench in his Ikon superhero outfit. At least his body is. His mind is inside of a nun.

Doctor Super Villain tells Joseph that he's Slade's personal physician. I know when I was a doctor who totally wasn't a super villain at all, I used to hunt down my patients by bothering their family members when I thought my client needed to see me. I felt it was better than waiting for my patients to alert me to a problem.

Dr. Villain can't track down Slade because he doesn't know Slade is locked up.


And apparently guarded by cyclopes.

Things you learn from playing Dungeons and Dragons for so many years: A. A little something about courage and B. the plural of cyclops.

This multi-part story is called "Four Rooms" but it does not take place in a hotel. The first room is Jericho's office where Doctor Villain is waiting for Slade. The second room is where Slade is being interrogated at the Coast Guard's supermax detention center in Florence, Colorado. I don't know how they get their prisoners there by boat.

The man interrogating Slade calls him "Death Strike" which is stupid. He obviously should have called him Deathstork. The man's name is Dex and he's all, "Oh! Oh! So you think you're Jesus Christ, do you?! Well, la de freakin' da!" Actually, he might be a little more adult about it. I can't help but perceive everything through the eyes of an immature asshat.

The third room is Northern Vietnam. That's a big room! The star of this room is Xia (the star of the first room was Jericho and the second room, Dex). This is the room I'm going to like the most because Xia has breasts.


See? This room is the sexy room if you're into breasts, face kicks, and camel's toes.

Room Two is the room for you if you're into chauvinists. Some might read some of the things I've written and snarkily say, "Well then that must be the room for you, you buttfaggot!" No wait. Those are the things Deathstork fans generally say to me. What the other "some" might say is "That sounds like the room for you, Tess! You sexist jerko!" To them I would say (and have said!), "You've been reading me completely wrong if you thought that!" I have been known to make sexist jokes on occasion. But they're almost certainly and almost definitely quite probably making fun of the people who think that way. But then that's sort of the problem inherent in satire. Those who don't realize you're making fun of them wind up embracing you as a hero of their chauvinism. I've always been a huge fan of satire because it's generally more intelligent than just calling somebody a cunt but in the current climate where spectacularly dumb people are celebrating the causes of dumbness, racism, sexism, and lunacy, satire might not be the best way to go anymore. It's time to simply look people in the eyes, call them an asshole, and leave it at that.

Finally we get to room four! That's the room where they're playing poker. In the pot is an ancient sword called Deathstork. This room also takes place "years after the massacre" in Srebrenica. If I weren't an American and were able to remember things from just over twenty years ago, I would probably remember what that was. But who can remember it since 9-11 happened? That was the worst thing to ever happen to anybody in any country ever.

Sorry. My satire is showing again. Unless that's just steamy, bloody, fetid sarcasm. It's hard to tell when you're as angry as I am at the ignorance of my fellow countrymen (and countrywomen! They're no smarter than the men!).

The poker game is where Slade gets the name Deathstork (and the sword!). It's also where he meets up with his team of international muckrakers, including Wintergreen.

Slade teams up with Wintergreen's men to find General Dragas, the man behind the orders to commit genocide. As they search for him, they run into a little hitch. Wintergreen's translator is Bosniak and wants to see the general dead. Slade wants to the general alive so Slade can pay next month's rent. Usually Slade would win this argument but this is early in his career as Deathstork (the beginning, to be precise). And also the translator has a small army on his side.

The Ranking!
+1! If you were exhausted beyond belief of searching for an intelligent Deathstork comic, you can finally stop being exhausted! That's because this comic book exists. If you haven't been reading it, you'll have to be a little more exhausted as you hunt down all of the back issues (or just get off your lazy ass to get the trade (or just fucking order it on Amazon since you're already on the Internet, you lazy jerko)).

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